The Six Second Game
by YellowWeather
Summary: Wally couldn't help but think, was this game just for him? Oneshot


**The Six Second Game**

(6)

For a moment, Wally was stunned. It was a foul play, but fitting, if it's Her final challenge.

They had but a matter of seconds to make the impossible decision and execute it. He honestly expected the team to decide between themselves, or to at least share a look, but it looked like his teammates had each individually decided, and were all lunging to be the one to take the spot as martyr. The one to win the game.

It doesn't take a genius to know what the villain was up to. She was testing them. Watching from wherever She was to see who was most ready for self-sacrifice, to pay the ultimate price, to—

Wally knew that he would win that game, if he played it. He could reach the machine before anyone else made it another step.

He wondered if She knew that, too.

Was this game just for him?

(5)

Wally stepped out in front of his teammates, observing in super speed the calculated determination in Kaldur's face, the look of duty and fear for his team. He might have joked, under kinder circumstances, that it made sense that Kal was so set on wining. Between death and debriefing this mission to Batman, Wally would say death was the lesser pain.

Rob, his best friend, was mid stride and momentarily off kilter, like his acrobatic grace was lagging behind. But it didn't matter, Dick still shot forward with utter willingness to sacrifice himself for the team.

Wally let himself notice how tragic it is, that the youngest was so ready to do something so permanent. That any of them were. That, maybe, he was too.

And M'gann, brows furrowed with determination, was flying forward without a second thought. Their mental link was still up. He could feel everyone, their emotions merging with each other so strongly that Wally felt the need to scream and let it out.

He tucked it away instead.

Connor was just barely leading the charge, leaping with ferocity, but not stemming from the usual frustration, annoyance, and hurt. Instead he was driven by the need to protect his team, his friends, his (dare he say it?) family.

Finally there was Artemis, whom Wally noticed had, for the briefest moment, shuttered. Artemis, an outsider who keeps her life shrouded in mystery, panicked and froze. Until something powerful kicked her into motion. Wally figured he knew what.

They each desperately wanted to have it be them over someone else. Losing would come at too high a cost.

(4)

Wally knew that it didn't matter. One of them would win, but only if he didn't.

His feet carried him the rest of the way to the machine. All he had to do was press the button (red, of course), and his team would survive.

And Wally would win.

How strange, he thought, that winning and dying were used interchangeably.

They would lose, and hurt, and survive, and then die, and he wouldn't be there. He would have a glowing statue, and the glory, and he didn't want it. He honestly didn't.

Wally didn't want his parents to visit his grave every Sunday until they forget or their bodies give in. To live out the rest of their lives alone together, their one child gone without a last goodbye.

He didn't want his uncle to blame it on himself, to burn from the inside out, to lose it, and hold it together only enough that he can keep running.

And god forbid they assign his Aunt to the story: kid flash, missing? Will she have to fight back her tattered heart and sit in front of a green screen, in front of everyone, and pretend that she chokes because Central lost a hero, and not because she lost her nephew?

He's seen it happen before. He doesn't want it for his family.

(3)

The team was now halfway across the floor, accelerating as though their lives depended on it, though, really, it couldn't be more opposite.

Would they mourn him?

He was sure they would, of course they would. But Wally didn't want them to.

Losing, that was the real sacrifice. Staying, suffering, surviving. That was the hard part. Winning was too easy, and Wally had speed, the greatest advantage.

Perhaps what he should ask instead is, would they forgive him?

They were getting closer now. There were only seconds before the first of them would arrive. Wally wondered who would have gotten there first.

(2)

But they were all too late. Doomed to fail from the beginning. It didn't matter that Artemis had made up her lost ground or that Conner was a whole stride and a half ahead of Kaldur, because races were Wally's home court. This game belonged to him just as much as it belonged to Her.

His teammates needed to play the game.

But Wally, he needed to choose.

(1)

A brush of pain and the game was over. Their faces hurt the worst. The horror, the disappointment, the failure.

Wally chose to play.

He won,

And She won, too.

(0)


End file.
